


Call My Name Or Walk On By

by Wolfsheart



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Alaska, Cuddles, Drinking, M/M, Masturbation, Nightmares, Roadhouse, Wolverine death, death of Logan, handjobs, reference to death of Logan, scogan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:52:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2400863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsheart/pseuds/Wolfsheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Superheroes die all the time, and they usually come back from the dead.  It's just a matter of time.  And for Logan, it was just a matter of time before his return to life was discovered and someone from his past would track him down.  When it's his former friend, teammate, and rival -- Scott Summers -- how could he ever see this kind of reunion between them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call My Name Or Walk On By

**Author's Note:**

> Just recently, [Scottxlogan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/scottxlogan/pseuds/scottxlogan) threw down the gauntlet on Tumblr for anyone who wanted to take up the fanfic/fanart challenge of "reunion" between Scott and Logan. This is my offering. It wound up a helluva lot longer than I'd anticipated.

*****

**_Tok Junction, Alaska_ **

Scott stepped into the Husky Lounge off of the Alaska Highway and closed out the new flurries of snow when he pushed the door shut.  He left his bike parked just outside, trusting that it would be there when he was ready to leave again.  He hadn’t bothered to check into a room next door at the Border City Motel & RV Park.  He didn’t even know if what he was looking for would be here. 

He’d been in and out of hundreds of roadhouses and shack-like bars from the moment he left the new Xavier School and headed northwest through Canada toward his own home state.  He’d never expected to get this far without catching up to his quarry, but then Emma’s powers had only begun to come back to their former strength five years ago, and their technology that detected new mutants hadn’t exactly discovered old ones that no one expected to hear from ever again.  She was still finding her mental feet again, so to speak, and sometimes she still woke screaming from nightmares caused by a cacophony of voices flooding her mind all at once. 

One of those voices had jolted her from sleep and sent her right to Scott’s room, a room she rarely visited unless she had a reason to be there.  Since the Phoenix...she never found many reasons to be in his room.  Or to be alone with him...if she could help it.  After an hour of her insisting to Scott that she’d telepathically ‘heard’ the impossible, she’d actually permitted him to hold her until she calmed down and then left him to remain awake the rest of the night while she slipped into what she later told him had been a dreamless sleep.  For that, Scott had been glad – for her sake – since it was the first she’d had since her powers returned fully.  As for himself, he’d remained awake for the rest of the night, trying to calculate all the ways in which that voice in Emma’s head could be possible. 

She wasn’t known for psychically contacting the dead. 

However, here he was, trekking into the endless white, risking life and limb on a possibility and a hunch, looking for that one person he should’ve been ecstatic never to have to see again in his life. 

*****

Scott’s eyes adjusted to the dim bar, and he pushed on inside, heading right to the bar.  As far as bar jukes went, this one was no different, and from the time he walked in to the point he sat down on a vacant stool, he’d caught the end of ‘Back in Black’ before the CD changed to The Jeff Healey Band ‘River of No Return’.  He wasn’t sure whether to take those two songs as prophetic and good or prophetic and ominous. 

“Beer,” Scott replied when the woman behind the bar asked him what he wanted.  He stared at her dusky skin and recognized her Inuit heritage, which filled him with a sense of _home_ like no other he’d known. 

While he waited, he looked around the bar.  The usual suspects sat scattered around on stools or taking up tables.  Two were playing pool up on a dais with a rail around it.  Scott suspected that some nights, the pool table was moved to another side of the bar while the dais served as a stage for a musician or two.  None seemed to hover around waiting to plug in a mic or amp, and the juke just kept being fed.  He heard the glass bottle being set down in front of him, and his fingers curled around it just as his gaze fell on an all-too-familiar and no-less scruffy visage near the back of the bar. 

Despite what Scott knew to be blue eyes shaded by the brim of an old hat – how the hell had he gotten a hold of his belongings?  Weren’t they kept as a shrine at the Jean Grey School?  Or hadn’t they been burned? – the swirl of cigar smoke and the never-changing face scruff and muttonchops gave the man away.  He set down two large bills and told the bartender to run a tab for himself and the ‘gentleman’ in the corner, and then he pushed himself away from the stool and made his way there. 

He wasn’t a foot away when the chair he reached for was shoved out toward him before that foot covered in a snakeskin boot retreated again. 

“Wondered when ya’d come for me,” greeted the man under the hat’s brim.  “Took ya damn long enough.” 

An eyebrow arched over his shades, and Scott took the invitation and sat down.  A part of him remained pensive.  Would the Husky Lounge still be standing in ten minutes? 

“I’ve been looking for you for the last six months.  Lots of roadhouses and bars between home and here,” Scott returned then took a long drink, not realizing how parched his throat was until it grabbed at the beer and wanted more.  He set the bottle on the table and stared across at Logan.  “So then...death took you, you beat the fuck out of death, and now you’re back,” he quipped and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. 

One meaty hand raised up and pushed the brim of the hat back.  No scars left that old face damaged.  No bandages encircled those hands.  Logan’s mouth quirked in a smile that Scott didn’t expect to see aimed at him. 

“Somethin’ like that, Slim.  Yeah, ya could say it was somethin’ like that,” Logan answered and the tone of his voice changed from cornered animal to amused and welcoming. 

Scott’s expression was skeptical, but he knew Logan wouldn’t tell him a damned thing until he was ready to, and considering that they didn’t part on good terms the last time he saw Logan alive, he knew the day the old man opened up to him might be a long time coming. 

“I know you an’ Kurt tried ta avenge my death together, even after ‘Ro told you two not to,” Logan added, indicating that his time in the afterlife wasn’t spent just spying on unsuspecting redheads while they showered.  “I appreciate that, Slim, though you an’ the Elf shouldn’ta put yourselves in danger over me...especially after the way I treated ya.” 

“That was in the past, Logan.  It never meant as much to me as it did to you.  I beat up on myself more than you did, and...” 

Logan raised his hand.  “Don’t interrupt an apology, Summers, or I’ll smack the shit outa ya,” he growled.  “Obviously had some time ta think about the past, and then I was somehow back on earth with my body and my healin’ intact.  Coulda gone back ta the school, but I didn’t.  Coulda gone ta your school, but I couldn’t face ya yet.  Not after turnin’ ya into a fugitive.”  He cleared his throat then sucked down his beer as if he needed it to actually get him through the apology.  “So, m’sorry for fuckin’ up your life and not trustin’ ya back in Utopia when I fucked off with the students.”  One broad shoulder lifted toward Logan’s earlobe. 

Scott stared across the table at Logan while he turned his beer bottle in circles on the table.  The nice thing about his shades was that no one could tell where exactly he was looking, so Logan wouldn’t know that he was staring.  Just in quiet contemplation of all that was said.  He hadn’t expected to hear any of those words come from Logan’s mouth.  Ever.  He’d always hoped for this after their near fatal – to him – parting of ways that day in Utopia, but after what happened with the Phoenix force and Charles’ death and all that followed, Scott’s hope for a reconciliation had dwindled to nothing.  There had been moments – the shared beer after the fight with the S.H.I.E.L.D. sentinels had been a good one, but that truce hadn’t lasted.  And then Logan had been killed by Victor Creed, ending all possibility of reconciliation. 

So he’d thought. 

“I appreciate the apology, Logan.  I do because it...gives me hope, but that’s not what I came here for,” Scott told him. 

Logan cocked his head to one side, his eyes narrowing to calculate the man on the other side of the table. 

“What did ya come for, Scott?” 

Scott took another drink of is beer while he debated how to start this. 

“I came because of Emma.  After five years, her powers came back full force, and she’s having to retrain herself because all of the voices are just pounding her at once.  Some nights it’s worse and she can’t discern who the voices belong to in order to shut them out one by one.  Then six months ago...she heard you.  Clear as day, she heard you, and I had to know for sure...if you were alive,” he explained then tilted his head in a way that Logan would know he was being looked at. 

There was silence between them.  Even the juke hiccupped for a moment, and there was a lull in the game on the dais so that the whole bar seemed to quiet down with both men. 

Then...

“Huh.  Ain’t that interestin’?”

*****

Thirty minutes later, both men had taken full advantage of Scott’s pre-paid bar tab, and there was still plenty more until he had to settle up again.  He still had to find a room for the night, and he hoped like hell that the motel next door would have a vacancy because he didn’t think he’d be in any condition to drive his bike anywhere – drunk and snow and ice weren’t the smart way to go. 

“So all five of ya got your powers back completely?” Logan asked for the third time. 

This time, Scott nodded first and took a pull off his third beer.  “Well, I don’t know about Namor.  I _really_ have no desire to connect up with him to ask him how the water is much less if his powers had been affected or if he got them back.  But Emma, Piotr, Illyana, me...we all are at full strength again.  No glitches, no half power-ups, no wonky optic blasts.  Oh yeah, and Erik has his back at full, too, though for the life of me, I still can’t figure out why he’d been affected since he’d never been possessed.  But either way, he’s back.  Teaches at least part of the time at the school.”  

Logan leaned forward, his arms on the table.  “Which school?” he asked.  He’d avoided googling both schools from the time he’d crawled out of the hole he’d been buried in.  He didn’t want to set off alarms, and he hadn’t been ready to be dragged back into the role of headmaster or teacher or mutant role model or Avenger or fighter. 

Scott cleared his throat.  “The new Xavier School.  Mine and Emma’s.  We’re uh...actually at full capacity and have had to build onto the facility.  We’re not quite so underground anymore, and the Canadian government’s been a bigger support than the U.S.  Though...I’m not a wanted fugitive anymore and neither are Emma, Piotr, or Illyana.  But obviously, mostly me.  No rebellion took place.  None had to.”  He half chuckled.  “There’ve been quite a few...changes since you died, Logan.” 

“Oh yeah?  Like what?  You tellin’ me that both schools are full o’mutant kids now and S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers ain’t at your doorstep again?  Especially that arrogant shit brother of yours?”  Logan glanced at the clock on the wall.  He’d just started carrying a cellphone again, but he’d been careful to stay off the grid.  So he wasn’t used to looking at the time on the phone.

“Actually, the Jean Grey School is...not so full.  After you died, Storm went a bit...well...let’s just say no one would’ve been surprised if she’d decided that jackboots and Hitler youth uniforms would be the new look for the fall semester,” Scott began and rubbed the back of his neck.  “She didn’t take your death real well, but she didn’t mourn like anyone thought.  She was...pissed off.  She didn’t even attend your funeral.  I thought it was because I was there, but Hank and Bobby said later...that it was because you wouldn’t do what she said and stay put at the school where she could keep an eye on you.  That you hadn’t...had permission to leave and that it was your own fault for getting killed...and that she wasn’t going to mourn you because of that.” 

Logan winced.  “Can’t say I blame her, but I wasn’t exactly lookin’ for her permission for anything.  I never looked for yours...why would I have asked for hers?”  He sighed.  He’d need a lot more beer for whatever else Scott told him.  “I suppose she ain’t still alone, though.  Beautiful woman like that...had ta have found herself a new man.  Hank...or...”  He saw Scott’s nod.  “...she didn’t go back to T’Challa, did she?  He wanted her a kept queen...boxed in.” 

Once again, Scott cleared his throat and worried his bottom lip between his teeth.  Then he gestured to the bar for two more bottles.  They were both going to need it before he was done. 

“Uh.  No.  See, one of the reasons why so many of the students from the Jean Grey School wound up at the new Xavier School is because...the JG School got...a second headmistress.”  Before Logan could ask if it was Kitty or Rachel, Scott pushed on.  “It’s Raven.  Logan, Raven showed up with her claim to the school because she was Charles’ wife.  He didn’t so much leave the school to her as...he’d left that...’suggestion’ that you and Storm make room for her there to teach.  Well, it seems that...Storm was able to smoke the peace pipe with Raven enough to allow that, and...then they sort of... _bonded_ over their mutual...anger at you.”  He raised his eyebrows for just enough insinuation of what that bonding was.  “They run the school together now, and both with iron fists.  They’re stricter than I ever was.  Not a lot of students wanted to stay there, so we had an influx.” 

Shock and disbelief ran through Logan as a cold hand reached right into his chest to yank at his spine.  That was _not_ what he’d ever expected to hear.  The perverted part of him thought it might be hot to watch, but then the realistic side of him was terrified. 

“You’re tellin’ me that Ro an’ _Mystique_ are...” 

Scott nodded.  “Quentin said he ‘overheard’ them talking at one point about having a kid together...you know...Raven as the father...?  But that hasn’t happened yet.”  When he caught Logan’s concern, he also assured him, “And as far as the telepaths have been able to tell, there’s no Raze and no Xavier.  Just those future incarnations we ran into, and they’ve been out of the picture since Hank and Tony finally figured out how to send the O-Five back to their original time.  Hank hung out long enough to make sure their wishes not to have their memories wiped were respected, but...I’m not sure at this point what effect that’d have on us now.  He’s thinking that enough of a rift was caused by their being out of time in the first place that we wouldn’t feel the ripples of it anyway.” 

“So you an’ Hank are on speakin’ terms again?  And Bobby?”  Logan watched Scott.  He knew that the split between them had really hurt Scott – more than he’d ever cared to acknowledge back then, and he hadn’t helped to heal anything either.  He’d been too pigheaded and set on destroying Scott instead of fixing shit. 

“We are.  All three of us, but it’s taken time, and we’re still not as close as we once were.  I think they’re embarrassed about the way they obsessed on hating me, and I wish they’d just...stop being embarrassed so that we could get back to being better friends.  I...understand, and I’m not pissed off at them anymore.  I just want my family back, you know?”  Scott shrugged.  “Anyway, I don’t really see them much these days because after the two...’goddesses’ took over running the school together, several of the male teachers took off, too.  They didn’t like having to ask permission for every little thing, and they didn’t like the anti-male sentiment that seemed to saturate the halls.”  Scott finished his beer and accepted the next one that was set down in front of him.  Once the waitress walked away, he continued.  “Hank’s back at S.W.O.R.D. with Abigail Brand.  Didn’t exactly tie the knot, but they do have a kid now.  She’s a cute little shit.” 

He pulled out his cellphone and pulled up the gallery he had saved on there, and he showed Logan the folder marked Brynna Brand McCoy – there were at least thirty-five of the little green-haired feline-looking baby girl with her papa’s big blue eyes.  “Yeah, so...Hank’s moved on, but he sometimes guest-lectures at the Xavier School, and sometimes he brings the kid with him.  We haven’t spoiled her at all.”  The last was said dripping with amused sarcasm. 

Logan smirked at the pictures of Hank’s kid.  He always figured the doc would be a good father.  “Cute kid.  Bet she’s gonna be smart and deadly,” he commented and eventually handed the phone back to Scott.  He was curious as hell about what other photos he had on there.  “What about Bobby?  Don’t tell me that he stuck around to be bossed by his ex...whatever the hell Raven was to him.” 

Scott laughed.  “Oh fuck no.  He was the first to stomp out, especially after Storm lobbed one too many ‘I don’t know why the Professor wanted _you_ to be an X-Man’ insults at him.  But yeah, when Raven stepped in, he was gone.  He didn’t come to the Xavier School, but he asked Kurt to put in a good word for him overseas, and now he’s with Excalibur, which is slowly gaining ground again.” 

“So then...the elf’s still there...” 

“Nope.  I think he wanted to stick it out there for as long as he could.  Help Storm...keep up what he’d been doing since he came back from the dead.  He and I...yeah, we went after Victor together after you were killed, but...nothing really happened.  We just couldn’t pin him down, and after a while, we had to go back to what we needed to do.  I thought he’d blame me for...well, everything, but you know Kurt.  Forgiveness is his middle name.  But when he and Amanda started to plan a wedding, both Storm and Raven went batshit.  Storm apparently railed that she didn’t give him permission to marry Amanda, and that if he did marry her, she couldn’t live at the school and Kurt _had_ to live at the school.  And can you imagine Raven as a mother-in-law?”  He laughed when Logan shuddered.  “So, our mild-mannered Kurt told both of them where they could shove their permission, and now he and Amanda are part of the teaching staff at Xavier’s.”  When he saw Logan’s curious look, he said, “No kids.  Yet.  But we’re expecting the news any day.” 

“The O-Five went home, so what’s Kitty up to?  Still with you an’ Emma?” Logan asked.  He wanted to drop names like pennies, he was so hungry for news about the others.  He arched an eyebrow when Scott really let loose a chuckle on that one.  “What?  Don’t tell me she went back to the Jean Grey School...or is she back with Petey?” 

“No.  She didn’t go back to the JG.  She was still pissed at Storm from before, and she didn’t want to teach where Raven was.  But once the O-Five went back to their time, she hooked up with...not _our_ Piotr, who’s back with us, by the way, and he and his sister have patched up their differences from the fall-out from the Phoenix.  But Kitty _is_ with someone named Peter.  It’s just...it’s Peter Quill.” 

Logan would have to pry his jaw up off the floor.  “ _Star-Lord_ ?  The half pint’s with _him_?  I can’t imagine her trying to find time and ways ta see him...”

Scott shook his head.  “She doesn’t have to.  She’s _with him_ with him.  She left both schools behind and now is part of his crew.  She keeps in touch with us, has stopped being pissed at Emma and me, but she’s happy.  Rocket’s teaching her all the best swearing...better than you, apparently, and she’s ridiculously happy.”  He laughed.  “She even runs into my father from time to time.”  He leaned back in his chair and stretched until his back popped in three different places, causing him to let out a sigh. 

Finally, he’d ask the tough question.  “And you an’ Emma?  You two ain’t...back together?”  Logan canted his head and watched Scott’s face go through a myriad of moods in the matter of seconds.  After Scott took a long drink and set the bottle down a little harder than necessary, he could tell the younger man would speak. 

“No.  We’re not.  We’ve come close a few times, but something always holds one or the other of us back.  Mostly Emma.  I got over the bullshit with Namor as soon as we were in our right minds again, but Emma’s still hurting.  Just when I think she’s beyond it, something triggers her pain again and we’re back to just being snarky friends.”  Scott shrugged.  “Maybe that’s all we’ll ever be at this point.” 

“Do ya still love her?”  Logan saw Scott’s slight nod.  “And does she love ya?”  Again, another slight nod.  “Don’t see what’s keepin’ ya apart then.” 

“Logan, it’s...”  Scott sighed again.  “...complicated doesn’t even begin to explain it.  The Phoenix complicated things.” 

Logan tapped the side of his beer bottle while he eyed the other mutant.  “Ya seein’ anyone else?” 

“Off and on.  Nothing serious.  I don’t know about Emma.  Definitely nothing serious for her because she never says anything about it, but she takes trips into Manhattan, so I don’t know what she does.  I don’t ask.  I don’t really have a right to.” 

However, it was the first bit that Logan latched onto.  He knew Emma would be alright, even if she wasn’t dating anyone serious.  The lady could take care of herself and find what she needed when she needed it. 

“Who’ve ya been seein’?” he pried. 

Scott stared across the table at Logan.  Why the hell did he need to know that?

“For a while, Angelica and I went out.  She listened.  She was one of the only ones who listened,” he finally answered. 

“Firestar-Angelica?  From my...um...the Jean Grey School?”  Logan couldn’t believe that.  “Bet that caused a fuss.  I thought the Popsicle had a thing for her...when he finally realized he and the Half Pint weren’t datin’ anymore.” 

Scott nodded again.  “Yeah, Firestar.  She cornered me one of the last times I was at the JG School for all of that mess with Charles’ will.  She told me if I needed to talk to someone...someone unbiased, I could call her.  So, one really low day, I did.  We met for coffee and talked.  Then we went out on a few dates, but it just became too complicated.” 

Logan snorted.  “They’re all too complicated for ya, Slim,” he chided. 

“No.  It wasn’t complicated like it’s usually...complicated.  This time, there were outside...interferences that just made it too much of a pain for both of us.  There was the influx to the Xavier School, jobs were threatened at the JG, and Angelica just needed time away,” Scott explained. 

With all that Scott had told him, Logan didn’t really have to ask, but he did.  “Outside interferences...that’d be Ro and Raven, right?”

“Oh yeah.  Angelica got tired of defending me to them and hearing all their insults and then the threats to her job, so she took off for a while.  This was a few years back.  Last time I heard from her, she’s been working with another group of mutants down south.”  Scott drank and wondered if he should drag himself next door to see if there was a vacant room before he lost the chance.  “And since you’re gonna ask who else I dated, and Logan, you’re not gonna believe one of them.  I still don’t believe it, but Maria Hill and I went out three times before we realized that we really couldn’t stand each other for more than thirty minutes at a shot.”  He smirked when that sent Logan off into a few guffaws.  “The rest...no one in particular.  Just...dates.  Nothing serious.  And for the last six months, I’ve been on the road to find you.” 

The strange thing to Scott was that the search for Logan had been far more exhilarating than any of his dates over the last five or so years.  Those moments when he and Emma _almost_ hooked up again came very close to making him feel alive again, but they were snuffed out too soon.  He checked in with Emma from the road, and he called Kurt, too, to check in and make sure the Xavier school was running smoothly – Kurt was probably the next closest male to Emma, and he’d promised to keep the students from driving her insane.  This trek to find Logan, however, had made Scott _feel_ again – feel something other than disappointment and self-loathing.  It took the burden of the mutant race and the school from his shoulders and gave him a purpose to focus on that didn’t seem to create enemies at every corner.  He hadn’t known if Logan would still treat him like an enemy, but the hope of finding his old rival-friend made the risk worthwhile. 

“So why are ya here, Scott?  Ya said it wasn’t for an apology, an’ ya had ta think I might’ve tried ta kill ya again...after the way we left things,” Logan tossed out.  He gestured to the waitress for one last beer each, and then he thought Scott might want to fall onto something more comfortable than a bar table. 

“I knew the possibility of you trying to kill me was a big one, but I didn’t care.  I just wanted to see if Emma was right.  I wanted to see you alive.  I needed...” 

Logan squinted.  Was Scott actually blushing?

“Ya needed...what, Scott?” 

Scott didn’t answer fast enough, and then the waitress was there with two more bottles, and he told her that was his last and whatever was left of what he’d paid in, she and the bartender should keep as a tip.  He drank down half the beer. 

“I need to find a room for the night, Logan.  I’ve been driving since eight this morning with only one stop for lunch and a piss...and speaking of that, I’ll need that once I’ve got a room.  So...now that I know you’re alive, maybe we can meet up for breakfast before I...I don’t know...head back.”  Scott gulped down the rest of the beer and then stood up, just barely swaying until he steadied himself. 

Logan’s eyes narrowed.  “Ya gonna tell the others ya found me?  Ain’t sure I’m ready ta go back.  Ain’t even sure I want anyone else ta know yet.” 

Scott’s gaze trailed across the bar, and he shrugged back into his jacket.  “Only one I’d tell, Logan, would be Emma, and that’s just to set her mind at ease.  She can block the Cuckoos out now...and Rachel, so they wouldn’t find out.  I’m sure Kurt would like to know, but...I won’t tell anyone you don’t want me to.” 

“I’d appreciate that.  I get it with Emma.  The lady’s goin’ through some nasty shit, I guess, with all those voices in her head again, and hearin’ my bitchin’ in her mind doesn’t help, I’m sure.”  He watched Scott and didn’t say anything about the motel next door.  Something about the way Scott said ‘I need’ and then didn’t finish it the first time niggled at the back of Logan’s brain.  The tone of his voice when he said it raised the hairs on the back of his neck, and there was a scent of need alright, but Logan didn’t think it had anything to do with a room for the night.  “Breakfast sounds good, by the way, Slim.  Don’t make it too early unless ya just gotta get back on the road early.” 

“Not early.  Too tired for early.  I just need a hot shower or something to pound on my back for at least fifteen minutes and then I’ll pass out.  Won’t be early,” he promised then gave Logan a half-assed two-finger salute from his temple down.  He wandered out of the bar and pushed his bike next door so he could haggle for a room.

*****

Twenty minutes later, Logan dragged himself out of the bar.  He’d played one fast game and won back most of what Scott spent on their beers, and now he just wanted to crawl between the sheets and fall asleep while figuring out what his next move would be.  His former teammate-friend-rival weighed heavy on his thoughts, and he just couldn’t get that tone of voice out of his head.  It scraped down his spine to his balls, and he wanted to know more.  He wanted to know what Scott was going to say, but he doubted he’d hear it now.  Come morning, Scott would be sober and wouldn’t be quite so loose-tongued. 

Logan’s boots crunched in the fresh layer of snow as he made his way from Husky’s to the lodge next door.  He’d already tucked his room key out of his pocket and started toward the back where his room was when he spied Scott slumped on the bench outside the office.  It was too damned cold to be outside, so why wasn’t he in his room? 

“Don’t tell me ya passed out before ya made it to your room, Scott,” Logan teased as he walked over, twirling his room key around his finger. 

Scott didn’t open his eyes yet.  “No rooms.  They’re all taken.  I was just...trying to catnap for a few minutes before taking off up the road a bit to see what else there is.” 

Logan shook his head.  “There ain’t anything, Scott.  Not for a while, and you’re too damned tired ta try drivin’ it.  Ya can crash in my room.”  When Scott started to protest, Logan just reached out and hauled him onto his feet and tugged him toward the end of the actual rooms before the RVs cluttered the back lot.  “Your bike’ll be fine there for now, but I’ll move it back here with my truck once you’re settled in.” 

Once inside, the room was splashed with yellow light when Logan flipped the switch that turned on the lamp by the bed.  The one and only bed.  Scott looked around, and the only other furniture were the two ancient chairs at the small table, neither of which looked comfortable enough to crash in so that one man – presumably Logan – could have the bed. 

“Uh.  Thanks, Logan.  I’ll just borrow one of your pillows and a blanket and there’s floor space...”

“Shut the fuck up, Scott, and just get in the bed.  I ain’t gonna bite ya, and it ain’t gonna kill me ta share the bed for one night.  Not like we weren’t in the showers back at the original school at the same time.  I’m sure I can handle ya in your skivvies,” Logan snarked, and once he saw Scott plop down onto the edge of the bed, he walked back out to move the bike down as he promised. 

Scott’s stare followed Logan out the door into the cold until it closed, and for a moment, he just wondered if this was some weird dream he was having back at the school.  The whole thing – Emma telling him she’d heard Logan’s voice in her mind and him setting out to find out if it was true.  So many people died and came back.  Kurt had managed it and now Logan.  Jean had more times than anyone could count anymore.  Why not Charles?  That was a mystery.  He really hoped his dead wife stayed dead, though.  He’d just found Logan, and they seemed to have a truce.  Perhaps a patched up friendship.  Neither of them needed baggage that would set them off again.  Heavy thoughts started to drain away as he ditched his jacket and boots then started to divest whatever was left. 

By the time Logan returned, Scott was curled up under the covers.  He still wore his shades, however.  Logan always wondered if Scott slept in the shades or visor all the time.  He didn’t think so. 

“Grabbed your bags from the bike.  Figured you’d need ‘em in the morning,” he stated, testing to see if the other man was still awake. 

Scott rolled his shoulders and nodded his head against the pillow.  “Thanks, Logan.  The change of clothes’ll be nice,” he mumbled.  Already the warmth of the bed seeped into his muscles and bones. 

Logan just nodded and set the bag on the table.  He watched Scott for a moment, having no idea if he was watching him back.  He’d always hated that he couldn’t see Scott’s eyes.  The other mutant smelled tired, though.  Rode hard and put away wet, as the saying went, though that cliché put a different thought into Logan’s dirty old mind, and he smirked before moving further into the room, stripping out of his jacket, flannel shirt, and under shirt in the process.  He sat at the foot of the bed and tugged off his boots.  His socks followed in a heap on the floor with the rest of his clothes, his jacket the only thing he’d bothered to hang up. 

“Need anything, Slim?  Got bottles of water in here but no ice,” Logan offered. 

Scott answered with a grumble that sounded like, “S’okay.  Water’s fine.  Need it cold...I’ll just stick it out in the snow for five min’tes.” 

He’d never felt endeared toward Scott before, but that’s what he felt now.  _Endeared_.  Sleepy Scott Summers – who wasn’t grumpy and sore from too many hours logged in the Danger Room – claimed a vulnerability that Logan had never noticed before.  It made him feel...protective.  It was weird.  Logan stood back up and ditched his jeans over the back of a chair, and before he gave in to the lure of the bed, he snagged one of the bottles of water and set it on the stand where Scott could reach it.  He wondered how the hell Scott could be comfortable sleeping in those shades, but he didn’t bother to ask.  He heard the easy breathing from the other mutant and assumed he was asleep. 

Seconds later, Logan stretched out on his back, staring up at the ceiling, counting the shadows that flickered from the sliver of open curtains and the light right outside.  He’d been here for two weeks, and Tok Junction slept quiet at night.  Logan hadn’t known what possessed him to cross the border between his home country and Alaska.  Now he wondered if Scott had something to do with it.  He knew Scott was originally from this state.  Perhaps Logan had hoped he’d be found by the mutant leader.  Maybe his own dreams would quiet down now that they’d seemingly buried the hatchet – and not in each other’s skulls. 

*****

Sometime in the middle of the night, the dip in the bed from broken down springs rolled the two men closer together, and the old trust and comfort with each other did the rest.  Scott spooned against Logan, tucked under one hairy arm, but it was Logan who stirred first when he heard a whimper close to him.  His eyes narrowed open to see the back of Scott’s neck where damp brown hair stuck to his skin.  His hand splayed over Scott’s stomach and then slid up to his chest, as if he could calm that racing heart with his warm palm.  He felt panic rise in his own chest when those whimpers became words, and when Logan heard the self-loathing accusations that Scott snarled at himself in his sleep – the terror over the demons that still picked away at his dreams, his heart went cold.  And sad.  He was one of those demons; Logan had been dead, but when he’d come back, it was with full memories, and the words and claws he’d hurled at Scott had been ugly. 

“Hey...hey now...shhh,” he attempted to comfort, his hand slipping further up from Scott’s chest to caress over the other mutant’s face.  Scott hadn’t shaved for a day or two, and Logan liked the scratchiness against his palm.  “Summers,” he whispered, but Scott still couldn’t stir from his nightmares.  “Scott...”  Still nothing. 

Logan turned Scott onto his back and cupped his face, his thumb petting that sharp cheekbone and jaw.  A part of him so wanted to push back those shades to caress over the other man’s eyelids, but that might startle Scott, and Logan had no desire to be eye-blasted through the roof of the motel. 

“Scotty,” he soothed and leaned closer until their faces were just a breath apart.  “Just nightmares, bub.  Ain’t nothing real.  Just mindshit that ya shoulda left behind years ago.” 

Scott moved his head from side to side, as if trying to shake himself from the grip of memories.  Finally, Logan’s voice and touch surfaced him, and he tilted his face into the other man’s hand and nuzzled that palm.  His lips grazed Logan’s thumb, and he pulled his hands free of the sheets that bound him until he could grasp at the thick arms on either side of him.  He dragged his tongue across his lips, catching the pad of Logan’s thumb in the process, and then he forced his eyes open to stare at the figure staring down at him with concern and compassion.  And something else. 

What was that in Logan’s face? 

It didn’t take him long to realize that he’d kissed Logan’s thumb and rubbed his cheek against that palm, and his cheeks reddened with embarrassment, even though he wasn’t in the least sorry for responding to the touch. 

All at once, Logan was hit with what Scott had left unsaid in the bar.  All that about what he’d needed.  It wasn’t sleep or reconciliation, though that was part of it.  The kiss to his thumb and the way he’d responded to Logan’s touch screamed louder about what the kid needed than the words he’d tumbled out as a way to get out of giving a straight answer.  And Logan didn’t feel anything but a need to respond to that.  To meet need with need. 

“Logan, m’sorry I woke you up,” slurred Scott, but he was more awake than that now.  The slurring was for effect, to make him sound sleepy, in case Logan wanted to forget about what he’d done. 

“Scott, shut the fuck up.  You’ve done quite enough apologizin’ for shit that ain’t your fault.  That never was your fault.  It’s time for ya to stop sayin’ you’re sorry and forgive yourself,” Logan told him.  His tone was gentle but wouldn’t tolerate any argument on the matter.  He didn’t stop caressing Scott’s face either except when he trailed his hand down to the side of Scott’s neck to his shoulder then down over his chest to his stomach, which actually quivered before he hesitated near the waistband of Scott’s underwear. 

Scott could only stare into Logan’s face, seeing it in partial light from the outside lamp slicing through the curtains.  What he read there made him grip at Logan’s arms harder, and the breaths juddered out of him while he finally permitted himself a momentary breakdown.  No tears, no screams, no cries – just the hitched breaths of someone who’d been drowning for too long and tried to pretend he hadn’t been.  All of the trust he’d put into Logan right up until their split in Utopia – the trust he’d even given him after that until Logan turned on him completely when he’d been possessed by the Phoenix and his time in prison and his escape – flooded right back through him to the older mutant until he was a vulnerable, shaking mess just trying to find his way up again. 

And through it all, Logan waited with the patience he never used to have.  He could smell the disintegration of whatever lies Scott had told himself – that he was okay, that he was over the past, that he was moving on.  That he was stable.  He moved his hand away from the front of Scott’s boxer briefs for the moment to pet the other mutant’s hip and side, making note of Scott jumping when it tickled.  He didn’t know why that’d be significant to him in the future, but some gut instinct told him it would be. 

At last, Logan closed that gap between them, the whole space and distance he’d helped to create with his anger and hatred for the younger man, and he coaxed Scott to yield his mouth to him in kisses as soft as whispers.  At first.  Once Scott gasped in surprise at that unexpected contact, Logan pressed their mouths together until he felt all the tension drain out of the other man again.  No words passed between them, only breaths and heartbeats.  Logan’s thumb climbed each bump of rib until it circled Scott’s nipple, and he increased the pressure of his lips before his tongue slipped between them to explore. 

It wasn’t long before Scott’s hands moved away from Logan’s arms to tangle in that sleep-messy black hair, and he responded to the kisses with the slow impatience of someone who’d been put in stasis.  “Logan,” he muttered before sinking his teeth into the other man’s bottom lip. 

What started as a hiss of surprise turned into Logan shushing, “Shhh...nothin’ matters, Scott.  Nothin’ but this.”  And he dove again to devour Scott’s mouth as he nudged against his thigh, and there was no mistaking his arousal.  By the moans that spilled over his tongue, there was no reason to doubt Scott’s either. 

Logan thrust both hands underneath the covers and tugged at Scott’s underwear at the same moment Scott did the same to his.  All four arms were in the each other’s way, fighting and pushing until somehow in their clumsy movements, they managed to divest each other of the last shred of modesty between them.  But it was as Logan had said earlier – they’d seen what each other had long before they were even friends; the only surprise here was the hunger for each other as if a match had been struck between their bodies.  Logan managed to fling their underwear somewhere outside of the covers and then pressed himself against Scott, propped on his elbows and knees, his fingers buried in the other man’s messy brown hair. 

“Fuck,” tumbled from Scott’s mouth the moment their hips ground together, his head falling back against the pillows when their cocks rubbed each other awake.  This left his throat exposed, something Logan didn’t fail to catch. 

He trailed his wet lips over Scott’s chin to the hollow of his throat, nuzzling there for a breath before he nipped hard at that exposed collarbone.  He licked his way back to Scott’s neck, and Logan marked an X with his tongue before latching his mouth onto that spot, scraping his teeth there and kissing a deep purple bruise in place.  Logan growled when that caused Scott to buck against him, and he felt the spike all the way from his balls to the top of his spine.  He didn’t answer Scott’s ‘fuck’ with anything other than his mouth on one of Scott’s nipples, biting, sucking, pulling a deep cry from the other man that made him feel victorious.  It was as if their lives had been leading up to this minute, and he allowed himself a second of coherency to wonder why they’d never done this before. 

That slip in thought gave Scott the chance to slide one hand between them, and even while he squirmed against Logan and curled his toes at the way that hot mouth tormented one nipple and then the other until they were hard enough to cut Emma in her diamond skin, he managed to grab their dicks in one hand, squeezing and stroking them both even as they continued to thrust at each other. 

“Ohfuck...goddamn...,” Logan groaned and pressed his forehead at the center of Scott’s chest while he caught his breath.  Sweat beads dripped from his forehead to roll down Scott’s damn near smooth body.  There wasn’t enough light in the room for Logan to see just how imperfect Scott Summers’ body was, and there wasn’t enough in the room for Scott to see that Logan came back from the dead without a physical scratch left on him anywhere.  None of that mattered right now. 

Scott caressed his other hand along Logan’s shoulders, the muscles flexed under his palm like a wild animal ready to strike or rut or run.  It was up to him to keep his old friend from running or attacking; as it had been up to Logan to gentle him out of his nightmares tonight.  Later, when he was alone, more than likely, he would wonder exactly how they’d gone from Logan shaking him out of those dreams to making out.  While Logan lifted his head and attacked his mouth again, biting at his lips, diving his tongue into his mouth to taste his, Scott kneaded their hard shafts together, their hips doing even more to drive them to the edge.  He cupped the back of Logan’s head, grasping a fistful of hair as he bit and licked and kissed back until his lips felt bruised. 

There would be a moment for tenderness, but the two men had too much to work out between them.  Too much left unsaid, too many wounds to heal.  Right now, hands grabbed and pulled and scratched at each other while Scott kept his strokes firm and steady.  He listened to Logan’s breathing, the way it hitched with each whimper as the pleasure popped and sizzled through the old mutant, and he raised his head to clamp his teeth onto Logan’s shoulder.  The yell of surprise that melted into a moan made his cock pound harder in his palm.  It wouldn’t take much for him to come, but Logan was known for a ridiculous stamina that would put Viagra to shame. 

Whatever mark Scott left on his shoulder would be gone well before they dragged their asses out of bed in the morning, but that didn’t stop Logan from reveling in the sting of it and the scrape of those teeth to his skin.  He tilted his head and bumped Scott’s, slotting their mouths together once more.  There wasn’t enough time in the world for him to grow tired of Scott’s taste and feel, the pillow of those lips against his.  His eyes were clamped shut, as if he could hold in the image of them shagging until it burned forever in his mind.  There was the fleeting fear that this was all a dream – a hot, sweaty dream that he’d wake up from in the morning to find Scott already gone without so much as a goodbye.  Nevermind a goodbye fuck for the road.

Scott lost track of time when Logan claimed his mouth again.  As expected, he was the first to arch his back and cry out against the lips pressed to his as he came, and for that moment, his brain juddered to a halt until he was spent.  He stared up into Logan’s face, what he could see of it in the sliver of lamplight through the window, the strain of holding back stamped on his rougher features, those eyes intense as they watched _him_ .  After all of his lovers and two wives, Scott found that he could still blush that someone – that _Logan_ would watch his face when he tumbled into release.  He licked his lips then leaned up to do the claiming of Logan’s mouth now, his wits and breath regained, and he tightened his grip on only Logan’s cock now, stroking faster, circling his thumb around the head.  Scott gave a triumphant smile when Logan whined and thrust forward into his hand, and he gave the old mutant what he wanted – a steady rhythm.  The want for lube flickered through his mind, but he wasn’t about to interrupt what he was doing.  Scott would either have a sad puppy face to contend with or a claw to the testicles, and he didn’t want either one. 

“D-dammit, S-Scott...,” Logan stammered and licked his lips. 

“Shut up, Logan, and enjoy this,” Scott growled and crushed his mouth against those wet lips again, demanding kisses that the old mutant would feel right down to his toes.  He’d never felt so determined to make someone orgasm – and he’d been involved with Emma Frost for years before their relationship had gone belly up.  Scott drove Logan’s desire with an ambition he hadn’t shown since the last time he’d trained the latest crop of students. 

Around the fourth stroke-and-squeeze, Logan’s brain melted.  After that, the rest of him followed, except for his toes, which clenched against the bed.  A broken spring jabbed into one knee, but Logan ignored it.  He just thrust harder, matching the movement of Scott’s wrist while his mouth devoured those kisses like his last meal. 

When Scott finally whispered, “Give it up, Logan.  Want you to come,” it was all Logan could handle.  He surrendered all control and looked down in time to see himself shoot off across Scott’s tensed stomach before the rest rolled down the fingers that gripped him and wouldn’t let go until they’d milked him for all he was worth. 

Logan wished he could stare right through those damned shades; just once, he wanted to meet Scott’s eyes and not be blasted out of a window.  It was important for him to meet that gaze now and know that the other mutant could see the truth in his own.  He opened his mouth to speak words he never thought he’d say to Scott, and that son of a bitch lifted the hand away from his cock and without hesitation licked his fingers clean.  Logan’s brain stopped working, and if he wasn’t already spent, he’d have fucking come again. 

Once he found his voice, Logan breathed out in awe, “That was fuckin’ hot, Slim.”  A million questions raced through his head about when Scott had been with another man intimately and how he’d never scented it on him through all the years they’d known each other.  He’d only known Scott Summers, boyfriend and husband to Jean Grey, husband to Madelyn Pryor, lover to Emma Frost – and whatever small assortment of women in between with whom the flirtations were too short to even consider relationships.  Logan never remembered even a sideways ogle at Kurt or Bobby or Hank...or hell, Warren, for fuck’s sake, and he’d been the looker of Xavier’s original students.  This new aspect of Scott’s background intrigued him, but he filed away his questions for now. 

“Thanks,” Scott replied and cupped Logan’s face, tracing his licked clean thumb along that strong chin and jaw, feathering his touch over those lips, as if he tried to memorize his friend’s features.  Or perhaps he was really learning them for the first time.  “Glad you think I do something other than spoil people’s fun,” he told Logan in a completely serious tone.  When Logan seemed stung by some of his own words being tossed back in his face, Scott gentled it by leaning up to kiss him; just soft lips on lips, meandering nowhere.  “It was a joke,” he whispered when he pulled back and let his head fall back to the pillows. 

An eternity passed with Logan just staring down into Scott’s face, and he saw more than the one-time handsome boy-next-door or Boy Scout.  Then again, Scott hadn’t been either of those things for a long ass time, and even if it had pissed Logan off for a while, he now realized how much he admired and respected the maturity and experience – both good and bad – stamped on the other mutant’s face. 

Not to mention that it turned him the fuck on, too. 

At last, Logan rolled over to his back and tried not to hiss at the cool air hitting his dick before he’d adjusted to it not being pressed between Scott and him.  He rested his head on one hand, and before he could scoop his friend against his side, Scott had already turned toward him and curled up along his body.  Scott tugged the covers back up then draped his arm across Logan, his palm resting against that firm stomach, fingers buried in thick black hair.  Logan smiled when Scott nuzzled his cheek against his shoulder and then remained still, and he curled his arm around the taller male’s shoulders while Scott’s other arm flopped to the pillows above Logan’s head.  He almost twitched out of reach until he realized Scott was twirling a strand of his hair around a finger, and then he gave in to the touch, finding it soothing and sweet and a little romantic. 

Never a word he’d have chosen in a lifetime to describe what went on between himself and Scott. 

“So then...what now?” he heard himself asking, but Scott’s hand on his belly caressed him and quieted him. 

“Hopefully more of what we just did...or more.  We’ll see.  Just gonna lie here with you and not analyze the next move for the rest of the night...or maybe the next few days,” Scott answered and brushed a kiss to Logan’s shoulder. 

Logan didn’t say anything to disagree with that.  What Scott wanted was just fine with him. 

*****

Three days later, the snow finally let up, and the clouds broke up enough to let a little blue sky peek through.  It wasn’t warmer; just clearer. 

It wasn’t the weather that had kept the two men together.  When they weren’t in Logan’s bed, discovering a whole new type of sparring that they hadn’t bothered to try in the Danger Room or field of battle – which, perhaps they should’ve, and then most of the bullshit alpha male tension between them would have ended a lot sooner – they wandered over to the Husky for food and beer.  They’d challenged a few locals to games of pool and sometimes intentionally lost for the hell of it.  Whatever they’d found to do together, however, they found out that they made better partners than enemies. 

But Scott had known for a long time that was the truth.  It just took Logan dying for the old mutant to realize that. 

*****

Logan shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and watched with heaviness in his chest – heavier than every time he’d had to say goodbye to Jean – as Scott finished securing his belongings in the saddlebags on the bike.  At first, he tried to dart his eyes anywhere but at the other man, but he couldn’t do it.  He needed to scrutinize every movement Scott made and commit it to memory.  It would be a while before they saw each other again. 

“Alright Logan,” Scott started as he turned back to his friend and...what?  Lover?  Yeah, after three days of sex and talking and building up what had been ripped apart, he thought lover was an apt word for what they were now.  He stepped close until their hips nearly touched, and he brought one hand up to hold Logan’s cheek in his palm.  He’d waited to put his gloves on so he could steal this last skin-to-skin touch.  “You’ve got my number.  I’ve got yours.  If I don’t hear from you at least once a week, I’m gonna assume shit’s hit the fan and come with the cavalry.  Or at least, Emma and Magik.  Emma’s already promised to keep you in the very depths of her mind so the Cuckoos and Rachel don’t find out about you.” 

“Don’t fuss, Slim.  Ya know me,” Logan replied, shrugging a shoulder.  He did lift one hand to hold Scott’s hand to his face, though, and tilted his own to feather a kiss to that palm.  “But yeah.  Got your number.  Tell Emma I said thanks.  I’m just not ready to go back yet.  Won’t go back to the school I set up ‘cause it ain’t what I set up anymore.”

Scott smiled a little and kissed Logan.  Neither seemed to care who might see them.  “I know.  I don’t blame you.  It’s not much of a school to go back to anymore, and that’s not me speaking from bitterness.  You could ask anyone about it...if you were so inclined.”  He brushed his thumb along Logan’s jaw.  “Just remember what I said.  When you’re ready to come back... _if_ you’re ready to come back...you’ve got a place at the new Xavier School.  I know what it used to be to you, but maybe what it is now might help you let go of those painful memories.” 

“Scott, when I’m ready ta come back, I think just bein’ where you are would help me let go of that shit,” Logan told him and smirked when his words brought a blush to Scott’s cheeks, as if the two of them still had to wrap their heads around sweet words between each other.  “And I know.  I appreciate that offer.  Maybe one of these days, I’ll be ready for it.” 

His response was met with a nod.  “I know.  No time limit, Logan.  The offer’s always there.  You have my word.”  Scott started to kiss Logan again, reluctant to say goodbye to those lips, to those eyes, those hands, that body, but he jolted back as he remembered something.  Out of his pocket, he pulled a piece of motel stationary, on which he’d written an address and what was clearly a security code.  He pressed the paper and two keys into Logan’s hand, watching as the other man gawked down at it, obviously confused. 

“Scott...” 

“Years ago, when I was married to Madelyn, I set up house with her.  Took an old cabin, renovated the fuck out of it, and that’s where we lived.  I was born in this state, Logan, but you knew that.  I’ve always liked coming back here, even with the bad memories that stuck around.  Losing Nathan...or rather almost losing him.  My parents.  All that shit I’m not going to rehash.”  Scott licked his lips and watched Logan’s eyes.  “I’ve kept up on the house.  Added a pretty good security feature.  Good furniture.  Modern appliances.  Always intended to use it as a getaway...once I could actually get away.”  He nodded to the keys in Logan’s hand.  “Extra keys to the place and the code to get in.  Take it, Logan.  If you get tired of motel beds with busted springs and shitty TV reception and wind up with an interest to settle down somewhere, use my place.  Consider it home.” 

Like the Grinch, Logan felt his heart grow three sizes inside his chest, and after the last three days, he didn’t think it could’ve swelled any more.  He squeezed the keys and paper in his hand, which he pressed over his heart before tucking them into his pocket.  “Slim, that’s...thanks for that.  I...” 

Scott just kissed him again, slow this time, taking away whatever unnecessary words Logan was about to say.  “I know,” he murmured.  “All I ask if that you treat the place...as you would...”  He had to run through the number of things he knew Logan would consider sacrosanct.  “...Kurt’s rosary.”  Both men laughed together. 

“Got it.  No orgies, no leavin’ food everywhere for the bugs ta get.  I’ll take care of your place, Scott.  It’d be nice to have a home where I knew I’d be safe, and where...”  Logan tilted his head and studied Scott’s face.  “...where I’d hope ta see ya sometimes.  If ya were so inclined ta check up on your place.”  It was his turn to reach up to touch Scott’s jaw, feeling that sharp angle under his fingertips.  “Ya know, if the school can spare ya from time ta time.” 

A shit-eating grin spread across Scott’s face, and he promised, “It’ll have to now, won’t it?” 

The two men forced themselves to part with one last kiss and the unspoken promises of phone calls and the inevitable reunions every time Scott would make time for them and leave his school in Emma’s capable hands.  He had to tear himself away from Logan, as if worried he’d lose him all over again, and he made himself climb on his bike and rev the engine.  He wanted to drown out the goodbye as much as he wanted to prolong it...as much as he wanted to forget it entirely and go crawl back into Logan’s bed again, broken springs and all.  They’d probably broken more. 

Neither actually said goodbye. 

Instead, Logan called over the rumble of the engine, “Let me know when ya make it back safe.” 

Scott nodded.  “I will.”

Logan didn’t ask for more than that, but somehow he knew there’d be texts and phone calls all during his trek home, just as he’d do the same. 

When Scott finally pulled on his gloves and had to back the bike up and turn it toward the road, both men raised a hand to acknowledge each other – a farewell for now. 

The old mutant, brought back from the dead, stood outside in the snow and watched as Scott became nothing more than a dot in the distance.  Then he stood there and stared after that dot until he couldn’t see it anymore.  Only then did Logan turn, walk back into his room, and close the door. 

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place years after the current "Death of Wolverine" comic series (four comics). I took a lot of creative license with where the other characters would wind up based on my personal preferences of how to fix what Bendis and the Schism screwed up. Also, I took the opportunity to show the extreme results in the attitude Storm's been getting away with in the comics, making her -- at least to me -- a very unlikable character. Also, there is a reference to Mystique being Charles Xavier's wife. I didn't make that shit up. it's canon. Check it out. I'm still waiting to find out more about that.


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